


Excess Energy

by Harmony



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmony/pseuds/Harmony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘He’s always damn stoic. D’you think he beats off to porn?’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excess Energy

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was a request from Anita, who gave me the prompt "porn" (but this fic doesn't actually have porn in it - not in the way you'd think, anyway). Spoilers for Chapter 277 onwards. Also posted at [my Livejournal](http://silverharmony.livejournal.com) :) Any feedback would be very much appreciated.

It had all started after he commenced training sessions with his newly-appointed personal trainer for the next three weeks, Shin, in preparation for the match against Teikoku, under the supervision of an idle Hiruma who had spared some time to muse over random things in his recovery capsule; and Sena was convinced now that not everything that Hiruma said should be taken too seriously, because if so much as a bored comment like ‘He’s always damn stoic. D’you think he beats off to porn?’ was enough to make him stop in his tracks and put him completely on edge for the next week, he was sure to be totally screwed any time the blond opened his mouth.  
  
Because _damn_ if Sena was going to spend every daily training session trying viciously to fight off the mental image of his trainer and highly-respected former opponent spread-eagled in his dorms, head thrown back and sweat glistening and muscles heaving, immersed in a world on his own, a heated breath and a strong fist and firm fingers pumping a rhythm to a dirty magazine.  
  
 _Oh, God_. The brunet really, really wanted to cry. Or kill himself.  
  
And then, it started. Noticing the sculpted way in which Shin’s muscles were formed while they were changing in the locker rooms, and always taking the opportunity to sneak a glance. Not being able to look him directly in the eye anymore. Feeling way too conscious of himself whenever Shin was any closer than a distance of three feet from him. He had never hated being a healthy teenager so much. And it was all Hiruma’s fault; it really didn’t help that the blond kept on gazing at him with a raised eyebrow and that trademark smirk of mischief – as if he knew every intimate detail of what plagued the running back.  
  
It was the end of the first week, when a few members of the Deimon team and their assigned partner-trainers were done with their intensive training for the day, that Shin opened the temporary locker given to him for use during the training period and a magazine fell out. The loud clatter of paper stopped half the group in their tracks.  
  
Within twenty seconds, about seven confused faces had already surrounded it, wanting to make sure they were seeing what they were seeing; Sena could only look at the cheap glossy cover, sensuously feminine legs and airbrushed breasts in silence, his eyes like dinner plates and his jaw hanging.  
  
‘Hooo,’ Mizumachi cooed with wide eyes. ‘So Shin-san reads this kind of magazine too.’  
  
‘It’s not mine,’ answered Shin simply, casually starting to undress. ‘Someone probably put it in my locker by mistake.’  
  
Sena swung around slowly and met Hiruma’s gaze. His face fell at the blond’s cheerful smirk. He should’ve known.  
  
‘Kekeke, you don’t have to deny it,’ Hiruma cackled gleefully, picking up the magazine and handing it to the linebacker. ‘We’re all boys here. It’s a good read after a tiring day, right? Here, I’m sure you’ll wanna look at it.’  
  
Sena didn’t even think he could remember how to breathe anymore when Shin, just standing there without even a shirt on, gave Hiruma his usual stoic look, then flipped open the magazine. The entire locker room was quiet; even Riku and Ikkyuu were leaning forward, closely inspecting Shin’s face. But they were disappointed. Page, after page, after page; the paper was slowly flipped but Shin’s expression didn’t even change.  
  
‘Okay,’ he eventually said, closing the magazine and putting it down. ‘Done.’  
  
But maybe, Sena noticed as everyone shuffled back with a disappointed murmur to their respective changing lockers, something was slightly different. Shin’s gaze was a little unfocused, or more off-balance than usual, somehow; he looked around, seeming to be looking for his shirt. The brunet confusedly eyed the shirt, which was under the magazine that the older teen had put down.  
  
‘Um, here, Shin-san,’ he said meekly, pulling it out.  
  
The linebacker turned to him and nodded. Reaching out for the shirt, their hands touched slowly, temporarily; Sena could almost imagine an intermitted heat, a fabricated stir, against the rough skin. He awkwardly stopped, feeling too-suddenly conscious of himself. And Shin stopped too, gazing at him with a strange expression he didn’t think he’d ever seen before.  
  
‘… Excess energy?’ Hiruma’s cheeky voice cut through their pause, and Sena quickly withdrew his hand from the shirt, his face warmer than usual. ‘Why don’t you go for a run?’  
  
Shin looked away and put on his shirt, a little more quickly than usual for him. ‘I think I’ll do that.’  
  
‘Take the fucking chibi with you,’ the blond grinned, popping his gum. ‘And the sauna’s free afterwards if you both wanna use it.’  
  
If it had been anyone else, _anyone_ , Sena might have glared; but this, sadly, was Hiruma, and one never really glares at Hiruma. Before he could react at all, however, Shin turned to him with those dark eyes and deep gaze – and his face was probably colored but Sena couldn’t really tell, as he lowered his head almost instantly – and beckoned for him to follow before making a jog out the door. The brunet looked at his retreating back helplessly; for all he knew, his own face might be slightly colored, too.  
  
‘Go on,’ Hiruma said, sounding bored as he scratched at the cast on his arm. ‘You can thank me later.’  
  
Sena wanted to say _for what?_ but didn’t even bother. He kind of already knew the answer. He suddenly felt like he had a lot of – well, maybe excess energy, too.  
  
He sighed and broke into a jog, following Shin out the door.


End file.
